A Ten Of Swords
by Dawn Tango
Summary: The worst enemy is the one that looks out of the mirror and all the windows. A collection of oneshots. FemShepley.


Death, Ashley William's father had told her in one of those lessons that pressed her mother's lips thin and straight. Death, he said, is a sum of its parts. Gun, the person behind the gun and the one in front. And chance, fate, whatever you wanted to call it.

The person in front of it? She'd asked.

He smiled a tight, sharp-edged smile, said softly, almost gently, _some people are too stubborn to die._

And later: _don't trust them, any of them._

Ashley Williams has always been a good daughter. She remembers.

The components of her sniper rifle glint dull metallic in the detached white light. Her hands are as gentle as she ever is as she wipes each piece down, checked for problems the kind that got people, specifically her, killed, then reassembling the gun. The movements were familiar, they tangle up her mind. Stopped her from thinking about the hard know behind her sternum.

Chief Ellison had tattooed, _a Marine without a gun is only so much meat, _behind her eyes, and there were plenty of them for her to look after. She didn't mind though. There weren't many Marines aboard the _Normandy, _and they were all either her superior or under her command.

"Do you ever move or do I need to worry about how dedicated you are to your job?"

Ashley jumped a little, scolded herself for letting Shepherd sneak up on her. Then reminded herself that the woman was N7.

"If you didn't feel the need to pick up every one we came across, I wouldn't have to be down here all the time," Ashley shot back, with a belated, "Ma'am."

The Commander grinned, an oddly youthful crooked one, "Ah, personality! How refreshing." She was still in her uniform, posture still stiff and straight, but her hair was in a messy ponytail, dark red strands wriggling out to fall across her eyes. Tired, blue-flint eyes.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, ma'am," Ashley said, her own smile tugging at her lips.

"Sure, leave me to deal with the over-polite types, why don't you?"

"I'm sorry, Commander, I thought was what officers were for."

Shepherd raises an eyebrow, "Something like that," her smile fades into what Ashley has named her 'Spectre face', all business and none of the caustic tongue and smirk, "How are you holding up, Chief?"

"I'm good, ma'am." She says calmly.

"This is going to be a tough fight, Williams; I need everyone at their best. Especially you."

"Me?" The question slips out before Ashley can catch it, a reminder that she's only twenty-five, this is her first combat posting-

"You're the 2IC of every Marine on this ship. They'll tell you things they wouldn't tell Kaidan or myself because you're an NCO-if you prove yourself to them, and I think you will."

Ashley looks at the pieces of her gun, and wishes she could go back to cleaning it, and stop thinking about leading, about Spectres and how blue Shepherd's eyes are.

This is everything she's ever wanted and she's goddamn _scared._

"I won't let you down, ma'am," She says strongly, looking her CO in the eye, hoping her voice doesn't crack at the edges.

The other woman searches her for something, she isn't sure what, but apparently she finds it, because she nods and says, "I have a few orders, Chief. I have considered your concerns about our non-human crew mates and while I understand the logic behind them, I will not restrict access."

_But what if you're wrong? What if we can't trust them? _"Understood, Commander."

The next words are not harsh but they have a backbone of steel, "I will not tolerate any discrimination or disrespect towards them, clear?"

"As crystal, ma'am. You say jump, I ask how high. You ask me to kiss a turian, I ask which cheek."

"On that note," Shepherd smirks, and for a moment Ashley is genuinely worried she might be kissing Vakarian, "I want you to interact with them a little more. Get to know them. If you find anything suspicious, tell me. Otherwise…"

"What do I say? They're civvies. Except for Wrex, I guess, and he's a merc."

"Wrex likes guns. Garrus likes guns. You like guns. Problem solved."


End file.
